Thursday, August 11, 2011

Vivianna Spark

Skyril Oblivion was 12 years old when she ran away from home. She didn't remeber why. She didnt know her parents. Her life had made her strong. Her hardships had made her near indestructibility. But there was a pull at her heart, and she knew why and what it was. She missed him. She missed his kindness, and his sympathy, and his warm humor. Vivacious Fog was almost her father. He was as good as. On her 25th birthday, Springheeled Jack had killed him. She remebered the wicked grin, the flash of silver, and her anguished screams. She laid by his corpse for who knows how long.
She always knew Springheeled had a grudge against him. But she never thought he would actually get him. Vivacious was her warrior, her strong protector. He had saved her once, and he could save himself, couldnt he? Thats what she thought. She never knew she could be wrong.

For years she tryed to become more powerful. But she just wasnt strong enough yet to face him off. And her need for vengeance, her need for revenge, had flared and sharpened over the years. So she went to find someone. She had heard the whispers, and followed them to her. Vivianna Spark. Her powers were legendary. She could tug at your emotions, make you weak, then transform into a demon. Skyril had never seen her in action, but she had heard rumours. Her hair would catch flame, shooting around her skull dangerously. Her nails would grow and sharpen and harden. Her eyes would flash white, and her opponent would be dead.
No problem.
She also was an Elemental, Adept, and Necromancer. Skyril had no idea how it was even possible. It defied every law everyone stood for. But thats what made her so dastardly. She was a killer, and no one knew how, but she was the best. So she finally found her, and she was going to do it.
Springheeled Jack was going to die.
...
Vivianna was busy enough. She didnt need revenge-hungry children to come to her with sob stories. But she had a grudge against this particular murderer, and she'd been looking for a reason. Now, instead of waiting for Jack to come to her, she could come to him.
She was looking foward to that bit.